


Hey Neighbor

by hazelandglasz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:52:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The walls in this apartment building are really thin and I can hear you having mental breakdowns all the time are you okay? AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Neighbor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [framby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/framby/gifts).



“You’re gonna melt, you piece of shit, and you’re going to be happy about it, I swear to God …”

Lydia is not one to spy on her neighbors, as cute and adorable and dimpled as they may be, but this time around, it looks like her neighbor is having a mental breakdown over … something.

In her kitchen, if Lydia is not mistaken--and she’s never mistaken, thank you very much.

Maybe she should … check? On the brunette resident of the adjoining apartment?

Lydia looks down at her dinner--gratin Dauphinois and oven baked cod--before looking back at the wall.

“Why is it so complicated for you to understand that I can’t use agglutinated like that--melt, motherfucker!!”

It would be hilarious, really, if Lydia’s neighbor’s voice didn’t just end in what sounds like a sob.

That decides it then.

Lydia picks up her serving dish with an oven mit, drops her keys in her pocket and closes the door behind her before going to knock on the one belonging to MeltDown Cutie.

“Y-yes?”

“I’m your neighbor,” Lydia calls, leaning against the door, “and, um, the walls in the building are … really thin?”

The door slowly opens, revealing MeltDown Cutie with a shy smile on her face. “Don’t I know it,” she says softly, “the neighbors above me apparently have Olympian-worthy sex ever other night.”

Lydia visualizes the map of the building and she nods wisely. “Newlyweds,” she says, as if this answers everything, before lifting the dish of gratin. “Anyways, I heard you had some … shall we say, minor troubles with your dinner, and I thought that I made too much anyway …”

She lets her voice trail down, because MeltDown Cutie is now beaming at her, and maybe she can’t melt whatever she cooked, but the brunette and her dimpled smile is making Lydia’s brain melt very fast.

“You thought I was cooking?” She asks, a twinkle of amusement now in her eyes.

Lydia is puzzled by that. “Well, you were talking about melting something, it’s dinnertime, I assumed …”

Shit, the dimples deepen.

“It made perfect sense,” her neighbor says, her smile softening as she leans against the door, “and I’m actually starving. That’s incredibly kind of you, Miss …?”

“Lydia--Lydia Martin,” Lydia replies, holding the dish up.

Her neighbor opens the door wider and invited her in. “I’m Allison,” she tells Lydia before closing her eyes. “Oh, Dauphinois, fantastic.”

So maybe Lydia had a mini-orgasm at Allison’s French accent.

Maybe.

Allison’s apartment mirrors Lydia’s own, their kitchens facing one another just like Lydia thought.

Boxes separate the kitchen into two spaces, and one actually looks like a lab.

“What were you trying to melt, if not for consumption?” Lydia asks as Allison comes back from the actual kitchen part of the kitchen with two forks and two glasses of something light, bubbly and pink.

Allison blushes--and it’s not like Erica, a sudden flush, or like Stiles, in blotches, no it’s a pretty pink that seems to diffuse just under the skin, like a colorant has been poured in a glass of water--and puts the forks and glasses on a wooden coffee table. “I was trying to melt … silver.”

“Silver?”

“God this is delicious,” Allison mumbles before returning her attention to Lydia. “I work at an archery club, and i need to make new arrowheads for my lessons this weekend,” she explains. “Merida Club for my 9-10 years old.”

“You teach archery?”

Allison makes a proud smile. “Former Young Olympian, three Gold medals.”

Lydia bows her head in acknowledgment. “So what is going with your melting?” She asks, before taking a bite of her gratin;

Allison lets out a frustrated noise as she looks over her lab. “Something in the alliage is not cooperative,” she groans. “I’ll figure it out,” she adds with a dismissive gesture.

“If I may,” Lydia says, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “you’re talking to a Master Chemist. Maybe … Maybe I could help?”

Allison’s eyes widen along with her smile. “If you don’t mind,” she says, obviously reining on her enthusiasm, “that would be … yeah, that would be super nice of you.”

“I never mind an opportunity to do Chemistry outside of the lab,” Lydia replies with a giggle, and where did  _ that  _ come from.

Allison looks at her from under her eyelashes, biting on her fork. “I’ll make sure to thank you properly.”

When they get a message in their respective mailboxes asking to “tone it down”, Allison considers her debt repaid, and Lydia counters that maybe now it’s her turn to show her appreciation.

Allison doesn’t object.

Of course she doesn’t--remember, Lydia is never mistaken, be it on Chemistry, recipes or on her choice of girlfriend.


End file.
